39. Isaac
Chapter 39
Isaac
S he complained all morning about how nervous she was, and then she got up there and put every single researcher in the room to shame. I watched her spin that fidget ring her whole presentation like it was a secret just between the two of us, and when she finally looked right at me, my face went numb.
She disappeared between the panel presentations, but the sound of her shower running when I got back alerted me to her presence in the adjoining hotel room.
I knock gently on the door when the shower stops, and I hear her padding around the carpeted room. She opens it immediately, her hair dripping water onto the hotel carpet. She’s wearing an oversized black t-shirt and leggings, her feet bare. I hold up the six-pack of Blue Moons and the bag of sour gummy worms that I grabbed from the Walgreens next door, and she smirks. “Movie night?”
She nods, pushing the door open the rest of the way before turning her back to me and grabbing her phone off the TV stand before turning to face me again.
“I’ll let you pick the movie.”
A bright smile spreads across her bare face, that damn dimple appearing on her right cheek.
“Oh, Jo, please don’t make me watch The Notebook again.” I roll my eyes with a dramatic huff, letting my arms fall limp at my sides. She went through a Nicholas Sparks phase during our second year of medical school, and I swear we watched it once a month for a year straight. I can quote the entire thing word-for-word from beginning to end.
I selfishly hope she does choose it.
Jo pushes past me into my room, flopping onto the queen-sized mattress that is suddenly much smaller with her body sprawled across it.
“I’m in the mood for a comedy,” she says, rolling over to grab the remote while I place the beers into the mini fridge in the corner of the room. “We’ve always loved Step Brothers .”
“Did we just become best friends?”
“Yup!”
Her exclamation is followed by complete and utter silence, and it’s as if she realizes the sentiment of the quote. A moment passes, and I choke out a laugh, trying to break the tension in the too-small hotel room. “Friends,” I say, not sure if it’s a question or a statement. She nods, pushing herself up the mattress until her back hits the pillows.
She’s on my side of the bed, but I’ll allow it.
Forever, if she wants it.
Don’t move.
Do. Not. Move.
An alarm rings quietly in an adjacent room, but I cannot move.
I peek one eye open and my suspicions are confirmed. Jo’s head rests on my bicep. Her hair sprawls out between us, lit by a stream of light from the television screen. We fell asleep. We fit together like two puzzle pieces that have been lost for years under the couch cushions in a basement, the puzzle left unfinished but still hopelessly beautiful just the same. Potential and utter frustration battle one another in my brain and heart.
She stirs, scooting back into my chest.
What do I do here?
Someone help.
You. Please. Help me.
Okay.
Make a choice.
My heart beats wildly as I take my free hand and snake it around her waist, pulling her until she’s flush against my chest. I breathe deeply, inhaling the scent of her hair. Lavender and vanilla. It’s likely a mistake, but I’ll live with my choice.
My eyes fall shut once more, and I drift back to sleep with her pressed against me, exactly where I wish she would stay.
“Isaac!” Her voice startles me from my slumber, and my eyes shoot open to find her pacing next to the bed. “We fell asleep, and I think we cuddled, and you have…it’s…you...” She pauses, our eyes meeting and drifting to the unwelcome guest in the room. “I mean, it’s morning, I know how it works, but like—” She clears her throat. “I’m gonna go shower.”
She slams the door to her adjoining room as I stare at my erection, clearly visible in my athletic shorts. “Idiot,” I whisper to myself. Every opportunity I’ve had, every choice I’ve made, and every door the universe has opened comes crashing down around me. I can lie and say it’s physiological, but we both know that’s not the case.
It’s always Jo.
The shower turns on, and I force myself out of bed and over to where my suitcase lies open on the floor. I take a quick shower, fighting every demon telling me to relieve the pressure that still sits at the base of my spine from a night with Jo’s ass pressed against my cock.
Thinking about her while you jerk off in the hotel shower is the absolute last thing you need right now.
Jo’s sitting on the edge of her made bed when I knock again, clean and erection-less. Her suitcase is packed, and she’s wearing a light purple MMCI baseball cap. It perfectly accentuates the flush of her cheeks and the sparkle of her eyes.
God, she’s beautiful. And I’m an idiot.
“Ready?” I say, attempting to read the vibe of the room before I continue.
She stands, extending the room key.
“Here, make yourself useful and bring these back to the front desk.”